


Under the Surface

by mintleaf



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, M/M, author is in despair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2012-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-22 20:18:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/613907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintleaf/pseuds/mintleaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Arthur can see Merlin from the lake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under the Surface

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when emotions assail me in the wee hours of the morning.

Sometimes, Arthur can see Merlin from the lake. 

There had been a time where a young logger built a bench next to the lake, for he and his lover to sit and relax. When they outgrew their habit, Arthur saw, from the blurs of color, Merlin take a seat and take a deep breath. 

Merlin’s fingers were crossed in front of him, then they drummed the empty space next to him, then they ran through his hair, and finally, they dropped and gripped the side of the bench.

He continued coming for so long Arthur stopped keeping track. Time passed differently when Arthur stayed there - he existed, surely, but he felt like he didn’t, because he couldn’t even speak, could barely even see and move as he wished. Still, he felt nothing, like he was a spirit.Seeing Merlin in all his ages and forms made him wish he was real, so he could take Merlin’s hand, tell him everything he’d had years or ages to figure out.

Arthur wanted to believe that Merlin noticed when the water was rising as he sat, and the ripples in it when he sighed. He couldn’t see Merlin’s face clearly, even if he rose to the highest point he could. Arthur couldn’t even push his hair past the surface; it was not allowed. When Merlin would sit, Arthur pressed his face against the water, like moving glass, and tried to make out Merlin’s expression.

He wanted the world to be in peril. Seeing was not enough, he wanted the world to need him, so he could see with his eyes clearly what Merlin looked like, what the world he lived in looked like.

Time passed, and Merlin eventually stopped sitting on the bench. Arthur saw it get torn down by other men, with foreign contraptions - tall, grey, and noisy things. 

He thought then, maybe Merlin would sit closer, on the grass, and if he would look into the water, he would see Arthur. Perhaps his magic would sense Arthur. He wished he had had more time, to ask Merlin to tell him all about what his magic could do, so maybe he could send him a message, let him know - make him feel his desperation. He could feel every time Merlin was near; his body would respond simultaneously with the lake. Arthur had to believe it was the same for Merlin, that he could feel Arthur. 

But Merlin left. Arthur waited, floating senselessly in the deep water, for the day Merlin would come back. It took so long that he fell into stasis, sleeping in the bottom of the lake, torn by Merlin’s disappearance and angry at him. 

When at last he woke, it was because he felt the water stir around him. It pushed him from the ground and whispered in his ear. 

Merlin was coming back.

Arthur drifted to the top, as close as he could, and he saw the familiar blur of Merlin, forgoing his guise as an old man, and dressed in blue. He pushed his face as close as he was allowed to at the surface, opened his mouth to yell inaudibly into the water, and felt a tightening in his body when Merlin leaned close.

Arthur was so near, he could burst through the water, grasp Merlin and hold him, and he struggled against the workings of magic, begging _please, please, let me see him this once_.

The gods were never known for being accommodating. Arthur fell back into the depths, disappointment and despair immobilizing him. 

How long was it to be before he was needed? Arthur swiped at the water; he wanted to be let out, he had been patient, he was good. 

Arthur closed his eyes, and then felt a strange tingle spread throughout his body, through the entire lake. It was magic, and somehow Arthur knew it was not Merlin’s, but an even older and more powerful kind. The same one that allowed Arthur to understand his destiny after Merlin laid his body to rest.

The force of the magic made him shake, and Arthur floated, unable to believe his senses. From where he was, he heard a sound, different from when fishermen’s hooks, and branches falling in, or stones being thrown in. It was a deep plunge, like a body so large was being dropped into the lake. Arthur moved to the source, not knowing what to expect.

It was a hand, and it was definitely Merlin’s.

There could be no one else. Many had swam in the lake before, or dipped their fingers in to feel the cool water, or to wash away dirt. Merlin’s hand responded to the older magic, and Arthur felt the two magics reacting in harmony, and neared the hand. 

Merlin’s fingers were moving, like he was grasping the water, like he was trying to find Arthur.

Arthur took the hand in his, wondering if Merlin would be able to feel him, since Merin could never see him. When Merlin’s fingers tightened around Arthur’s wrist, Arthur exhaled in relief. 

The puff of air bubbled up to the surface, yet strangely Arthur had never needed to actually breathe. From the way Merlin’s hand moved, Arthur knew he saw.

He pressed his face into the palm of the hand and kissed it, now knowing for sure Merlin could feel every glide of skin against skin. Arthur held Merlin’s hand with both of his own, twining their fingers together and stroking the knuckles.

Merlin reciprocated everything Arthur did with what little movement he could. Arthur kissed every finger, and followed the lines of Merlin’s palm with his tongue. 

Hope welled in him. The brief moment of physicality was a sign that his time in Avalon was nearing its end. Soon, he would rise.

Arthur kissed Merlin’s hand once more, and began to peel his fingers out so it left his palm open. Merlin let Arthur do as he wished, gently stretching his fingers outward and pushing towards Arthur’s direction.

In his palm, Arthur traced, “I’m coming.”


End file.
